


so much in demand

by theafterimages



Series: frat au [12]
Category: GOT7, KARA (Band), 룸메이트 | Roommate (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 05:52:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5080177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theafterimages/pseuds/theafterimages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times people hooked up with Jackson and one time they just chilled. (Frat AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. zitao

**Author's Note:**

> Frat AU now has two master lists: [one with all the fics together in chronological order](http://eveninadream.livejournal.com/9888.html) and [one with the fics separated by storylines](http://eveninadream.livejournal.com/17207.html). If there are any other ways you can think of that I can divide these to help you keep track of the AU, let me know! I know there's a lot.
> 
> Thank you to E & S for betaing, and K for everything. ♥

Once they get back to the house, Jackson and Zitao somehow get to claim the first available shower, Jackson kissing him even before Zitao slams the bathroom door shut behind them. Zitao can’t blame him. He’s desperate for it, too, all that adrenaline worked up during the basketball game humming through his system.

He’s not sure he’s ever been so grateful for athletic shorts, both of them shoving each other’s off in record time. Shirts are more of a struggle, since that involves not touching for more than two seconds at a time, but they manage it somehow.

They make it into the shower soon enough, where they run into their first obstacle—the wait for the water to heat.

“Why does it always take so long?” Zitao complains, huddling behind Jackson as Jackson keeps his hand under the steady stream.

“You’re so impatient,” Jackson scolds mockingly, flicking a handful of chilly water at him. Zitao stumbles back with a yelp, making Jackson laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll warm you up.”

“Yeah, right,” Zitao scoffs. “Like I can trust you anymore.”

“You can trust me! Here, feel, it’s warm now!” He tosses another handful of water, warm verging on hot this time, at Zitao, who huffs in exasperation.

“Why are you like this?” he demands, though he forgives him easily enough; Jackson more than earns it once he backs them both under the hot spray, kissing him again. Jackson keeps Zitao’s back against the water, so that he’s getting most of the warmth, both from the flood of water at his back and Jackson pressed up against his front.

One good turn deserves another, Zitao decides, and fists Jackson’s cock a few times, swallowing Jackson’s startled moans, before smoothly dropping to his knees.

“Hey-”

“You’re the champion, remember?” Zitao says, and sets to work before Jackson can decide whether to keep arguing or not.

Zitao kisses the mark he’d left on the inside of Jackson’s thigh yesterday, skims his teeth over it, and Jackson’s hand reflexively tightens in his wet hair. Zitao laughs and moves on, nuzzling Jackson’s cock briefly, pressing a few kisses along the rapidly hardening shaft before shifting down, sucking lightly at each of his balls and listening to Jackson’s whines.

Zitao had meant what he’d said yesterday—blowing Jackson is fun, hearing his constant sounds and overwhelmed voice, seeing if he can push Jackson into losing track of how tightly he’s gripping Zitao’s hair. Half the fun of giving head is relishing how the recipient is enjoying it—after all, Zitao knows he looks good and feels better, and enjoys the validation. And Jackson makes a hell of an appreciative audience.

Though speaking of noise…. “The walls aren’t that thick,” he pulls off long enough to warn him. Jackson whines in protest, and Zitao kisses the hollow of his hip, giving him a teasing smile. “Don’t be too loud.”

“You’re telling _me_ to be quiet,” Jackson says in disbelief, and Zitao laughs. “ _You_?”

“You can do it,” Zitao teases. 

Whatever retort Jackson might have made is lost as Zitao promptly leans back in and seals his mouth around Jackson’s cock, his other hand gripping one of Jackson’s ass cheeks as Zitao starts to bob his head. Jackson cries out and Zitao can hear one of his hands slide down the shower wall, the sharp skidding noise resulting from his failed attempt to find purchase.

 

 

 

 

 

 

A few people have knocked on the door by the time Jackson and Zitao finally make it out of the shower, but they’re still not in any particular hurry.

Zitao rubs his towel over his hair one more time as he watches Jackson, still naked but for the towel around his waist, bend over the counter, clutching it with both hands. “Now I’m tired,” Jackson mumbles, punctuating it with a yawn.

Zitao’s almost tempted to drape himself over Jackson’s back, untie the towel and look for the lube that’s kept stocked in every Kappa Tau bathroom, but now that the adrenaline from earlier has worn off he’s tired, too. “Want to nap in my room for a while?” he offers.

Jackson rubs one hand over his face. “Yeah, thanks.”

Zitao can’t resist stroking down Jackson’s spine, his skin still extra warm from the shower, or wishing one last time that Jackson was his to keep. Jackson smiles at him in the mirror and Zitao smiles back, relieved to see that none of the what-ifs he’s thinking about are written on his face.


	2. jinyoung

The first time Jinyoung goes to a Kappa Tau party, he wears the wrong outfit.

He’s aware of this from the second he steps foot in the house, but only one person actually comments on it. “Get lost on your way to Omega Chi?” Jackson teases, slinging an arm over his shoulders.

Jinyoung smiles wryly. The polo shirt and salmon-colored shorts he’s wearing really would be perfect for Omega Chi, which is why he’d defaulted to wearing them when Jaebum had invited him to Kappa Tau. He should have known better than to assume. “Something like that.”

“You could always lose the shirt,” Jackson suggests.

“Or everything?” Jinyoung asks.

Jackson laughs loudly, his head thrown back, and tightens his grip on Jinyoung. “Or just drink until it doesn’t matter anymore! Come on.”

Jinyoung’s seen Jackson around the dorm—their rooms are only a few doors apart, after all—but Jinyoung keeps busy enough that he hasn’t gotten to know much of anyone who’s not in his classes or organizations, Jackson included. Most of Kappa Tau included, for that matter—except Jaebum, of course, and the last glimpse of him Jinyoung gets during that first party is of him being led away by the Zeta Beta Zeta he’d spent the night all over. Not that Jinyoung minds, obviously. But Jackson keeps Jinyoung by his side as the night goes on, introducing him to everyone and making sure he gets as many drinks as he wants and has a good time.

 

 

 

 

Jinyoung spent that first party studying his surroundings carefully and getting a feel for how Kappa Tau works, so when he goes to his second Kappa Tau party he knows just how to dress, carefully selecting a grey graphic tee and the tightest jeans he owns. He can feel people staring as he makes his way through the house, and smiles to himself. Much better.

Jinyoung doesn’t see Jaebum, which is fine. By now he knows plenty of the other people currently crammed into the Kappa Tau house. He has no doubt that he’ll find someone to talk to soon—and sure enough, he’s proven right.

The song blaring through the house ends just in time for Jinyoung to hear a voice he recognizes say, “ _Wow_.” 

He turns to find Donggeun staring at him from behind the bar. Jinyoung grins at him, and Donggeun’s eyes widen, but he smiles back ruefully as Jinyoung approaches him.

“Can I get a shot?” Jinyoung asks, leaning against the bar and enjoying the sight of Donggeun ducking his head, his ears turning red. Yes, he thinks smugly, he definitely chose the right jeans tonight.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Donggeun says quickly, and sets about pouring him one.

Jinyoung’s smile widens. Donggeun’s nice, and fun to flirt with and fluster, but that’s about as far as Jinyoung can see it going. Given how much time Donggeun spends talking about his best friend/ex-boyfriend, Sungjae, Jinyoung doubts Donggeun’s nominally single status will last once Sungjae comes to Cartwright next year. But that doesn’t mean Jinyoung can’t enjoy himself in the meanwhile.

“Think Baekhyun will try to talk to me about defecting to Kappa Tau again?” Jinyoung asks cheerfully as Donggeun passes the shot across the bar.

“Dressed like that? He might kidnap you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” Jackson offers, his grin bright as he leans against the bar next to Jinyoung.

“What about Mark?” Jinyoung returns. “Shouldn’t you be protecting him?”

His smile slips. “Mark’s on a date.”

“He left you?” Jinyoung asks with pretended shock. 

“It’s not like he comes to a lot of our parties, anyway. It’s fine, whatever.”

Jinyoung drapes his arm over Jackson’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Not missing a beat, Jackson wraps his arms around Jinyoung’s waist and leans in closer. “By 'taking care of'-”

Donggeun shakes his head. “Do you guys even want drinks or are you just going to flirt?”

“Both,” Jackson says, and his grin returns in full force when Jinyoung laughs. “Shots?”

“Sure, why not,” Jinyoung agrees.

“Some people get to have all the fun,” Donggeun complains good-naturedly as he passes two shots to them.

“Some people helped set up,” Jackson returns. “ _Some people_ cleaned the gutters yesterday-”

Donggeun laughs. “Okay, okay, fair enough.”

“That sounds tiring,” Jinyoung says, leaning in closer. Jackson smells really good, he can’t help but notice, and wonders what kind of cologne he uses. “Anything you need me to—take care of?”

“I take it back, not fair at all,” Donggeun interrupts, grimacing. “Get out of here.”

Jinyoung gives Donggeun one last smile as he follows Jackson into the next room.

Jackson insists on linking arms when they down their shots, jostling Jinyoung in the process. Jinyoung licks the spare drops of tequila off his hand, tongue swiping from his thumb to the side of his forefinger, and catches Jackson staring. Jinyoung gives him a slow smile, watching as Jackson swallows. Jackson may be easy, Jinyoung thinks, but that doesn’t make it any less fun.

Following impulse, he takes Jackson’s shot glass from him, setting them both down on the cluttered side table. “Aren’t you going to ask me to dance?” he asks coyly.

Jackson’s hand slips down his side until he twines it with Jinyoung’s. “You sure you want me? You know half the house is checking you out, right?”

“I know,” Jinyoung says, preening, and Jackson laughs. “But I’m taking care of you, remember?”

“You still didn’t say what that means.”

Jinyoung just smiles and pulls Jackson to join the crowd of dancers.

Jinyoung hasn’t danced with Jackson yet, but he’s wanted to. Jackson proves to be as shameless about it as he is about everything else, pressing himself against Jinyoung’s back, one hand anchored on his hip. Jackson’s shorter than he is, but Jinyoung bends slightly at his knees so he can grind back against Jackson, hearing him curse at first contact. Jinyoung smirks. Perfect.

“How did they let you pledge Omega Chi instead?” Jackson’s lips brush Jinyoung’s ear as he talks, close under the pretext of needing to be heard over the pounding bass. Jinyoung shivers at the sensation. “You definitely have the best ass out of everyone here.”

“Oh, you know.” Jinyoung leans his head back against Jackson’s shoulder, his eyes slipping shut as Jackson starts kissing down his neck. “Can’t make it too easy for you guys.”

“I can work harder,” Jackson says, one hand sliding under the hem of Jinyoung’s shirt, and Jinyoung laughs.

Jinyoung can feel someone watching them. Deliberately nonchalant, he opens his heavy-lidded eyes and scans the crowd.

And that’s when he sees Jaebum for the first time that night, staring at them, eyes dark and jaw tight.

Heat pooling in his stomach, Jinyoung has a sudden, sharp mental image of disentangling himself from Jackson and going across the room, taking Jaebum’s drink out of his hand and then taking _him_ , kissing that wide mouth he keeps catching himself staring at. He can all but feel Jaebum’s hands on him, firm and insistent and sure—

“Hey.” Jackson nips at the join of his neck, and Jinyoung shudders and turns to face him. “What did you mean by 'taking care of me', anyway?”

Jinyoung sneaks one last glance to the side, but Jaebum’s no longer anywhere in sight. That, he decides, is something he’ll settle later. For now… “It’s not something I can do here,” he says with a smile, and Jackson takes the hint, taking Jinyoung’s hand and pulling him out of the room.

They make it to the hallway before Jackson backs Jinyoung against the wall for a long kiss, Jinyoung twining one of his legs around Jackson’s to press him closer. 

“We should go to my room,” Jackson pants as Jinyoung starts kissing his way toward Jackson’s neck.

“You don’t have a room yet,” Jinyoung says against Jackson’s jaw. “You’re a pledge.”

“We should go to _a_ room.”

Like it’s a sign, one of the nearby doors opens and a ZBZ Jinyoung doesn’t recognize emerges, followed by one of the KTs, her hair a mess and his shirt inside-out. When in Rome, Jinyoung figures, then reconsiders. Rome? Greece? Whatever. “That room?” he suggests.

“That room,” Jackson agrees, and they all but tumble through the door, fumbling with the fastenings of each other’s jeans as soon as it’s closed behind them, Jackson pressing Jinyoung back against it.

Any other time Jinyoung probably would have reined Jackson in, drawn things out and seen how long it would take to make Jackson beg, but right now fast and reckless is exactly what Jinyoung wants, pushed too far by Jackson’s hips against his and the memory of Jaebum’s stare burning into him.

Jackson licks his palm quickly, laughing at whatever face Jinyoung must have made, then wraps it around both their rapidly hardening semis, jacking them quickly together. He curls his other hand around the back of Jinyoung’s neck and pulls him in for a kiss, one Jinyoung indulges for a few seconds before breaking away.

“I’m not really into kissing much during hookups,” he explains. “On the lips, I mean.”

Jackson’s hand stills as he takes in Jinyoung’s words, his brow creasing. “Oh. Really?”

“It just seems like a boyfriend thing to do, you know?” Jinyoung says with a shrug. “You kiss the person you’re dating.”

Jackson frowns. “I guess. Is there anything else you don’t want me to do?”

“I don’t want you to stop,” Jinyoung says lightly, covering Jackson’s hand with his own. After a second Jackson starts moving again, and Jinyoung leans in and kisses his neck, nipping at his pulse point and feeling victorious as Jackson’s cock throbs against his in response.

Jinyoung has his next move in mind but Jackson beats him to it, dropping to his knees, mouthing briefly over Jinyoung’s hipbone before wrapping his hand around Jinyoung’s cock and leaning in. He doesn’t hesitate here, either, taking Jinyoung as deep as he can, head bobbing quickly. Jinyoung winds his fingers in Jackson’s hair and moans, feet braced against the floor, shuddering as Jackson’s other hand kneads Jinyoung’s ass restlessly. It feels so good—everything feels so good-

He tips his head back against the door with a breathy sigh, eyes squeezed shut. He can’t imagine how filthy this must look; filthy and hot. He can’t help but envision Jaebum there, striding over to them and pushing Jackson out of the way, his hand taking over, kissing Jinyoung and telling him he can only have Jaebum from now on...

Later, Jinyoung promises himself again, wrenching his thoughts back on track. He’ll get Jaebum later. As soon as they see each other again, judging by how intensely Jaebum was looking at him and how little patience he has. But first, Jackson.

Jinyoung’s eyes roll back, the familiar heat building. “Jackson—Jackson, I’m close, I’m going to-”

Jackson pulls off and smoothly rises to his feet, his cock stiff against Jinyoung’s thigh as he kisses him again, jerking Jinyoung off. The pressure’s _perfect_ and Jinyoung stiffens, shakes, sways forward as he comes, then leans against Jackson, gasping for air.

“Hot,” Jackson says raggedly, and Jinyoung manages a smile.

It’s only a few minutes before it’s his turn to slip to his knees. He’s not so tired that he can’t return a favor, after all, especially given that he’s the one who started this in the first place.

Once Jackson comes, then slides down the door to join Jinyoung on the floor, they both just breathe for a moment. 

“Whose room is this?” Jinyoung asks at last.

“No idea,” Jackson admits promptly.

“Someone who’ll never leave their door unlocked again.”

Jackson’s laugh is unsteady. “Yeah,” he says, then nudges Jinyoung. “So that’s how you take care of people?”

“In special cases,” Jinyoung returns, resting his head against Jackson’s shoulder. “If you give me fifteen minutes and ask really nicely, I might even do it again.”

Jackson makes a disbelieving noise, tipping his head back against the door and demanding toward the ceiling, “How are you even real? How is this _place_ even real? I’m never gonna graduate. Somebody’s gonna kill me. I’ll see one too many hot people and it’ll kill me.”

“Better switch roommates, then,” Jinyoung says, and nips at his shoulder when Jackson manages to summon up a mildly perturbed frown in response.

 

 

 

 

When Jaebum lets himself into their dorm room the next day, Jinyoung’s waiting for him, wearing the jeans from last night and what he knows is a Cheshire cat smile.

“Are you actually cleaning?” Jaebum asks in surprise.

“I do it sometimes, you know,” Jinyoung says, straightening up slowly from where he’s bent over, ostensibly to pick up his dirty clothes and put them in his rarely used laundry bag. He cleans, like, twice a year, but he can stretch it to three times if that’s what Jaebum’s into. “Had a good night?”

“It was fine,” Jaebum says carefully. He doesn’t seem to know quite how to react to Jinyoung. Jinyoung likes seeing him so off-balance. “How was yours?”

“Pretty great.” Jinyoung smiles, as if in fond reminiscence—and he definitely has some good memories. 

Jinyoung waits until he sees Jaebum’s quick frown; then, as if it’s an idea that’s just occurred to him, he adds, “What are you doing later? We should hang out.”

Jaebum hesitates, his gaze dropping unerringly to Jinyoung’s mouth. Jinyoung inwardly celebrates. Take _that_ , Mark ‘I think Jaebum’s straight’ Tuan—

And then Jaebum steps back, his own mouth curving into a sharp smile. “Can’t, I have a date,” he says.

“What?” Jinyoung demands, then quickly forces his thoughts into some semblance of order. “I mean, oh, okay.”

“Maybe some other time,” Jaebum says carelessly.

Jinyoung’s eyes narrow, and Jaebum’s smile widens. He’s doing this on purpose, Jinyoung realizes, trying to see if he can push Jinyoung into making another move. Well, forget that. Jaebum wants him, Jinyoung’s sure of it now, and _he’s_ going to be the one who will ask for more. Jinyoung will make sure of that. 

Jaebum, Jinyoung thinks determinedly as he smiles back, has no idea what he’s in for.


	3. gayeon

Eric announces their presentation project three weeks before the end of the semester. “I know it’s not much time, but you’ll be doing this instead of a final,” he points out. “I’ve assigned your partners-”

“Will I be with Youngji?” Jackson interrupts.

“Hand,” Eric says long-sufferingly, which Gayeon assumes is more out of habit than anything, since she can’t imagine it’ll do any good at this point. Jackson thrusts his hand upward. “Yes, Jackson?”

“Will I be with Youngji?”

“No.”

“You can work with other people, Jackson,” Youngji tells him, shaking her head.

“But you’re my wife!”

“Youngji’s working with Kangjoon,” Eric tells him. Jackson squawks indignantly—though, Gayeon reflects with a silent laugh, that could be just as much because of how he’s spent half the semester with his arm at an awkward angle so he can reach back and hold Kangjoon’s hand under the desk between them. “You’ll be working with Gayeon, since she can keep you quiet.”

Jackson’s head snaps around so that he can stare at Gayeon, his eyes saucer-wide, the way they haven’t been since his initial awkwardness around her when school first started. Gayeon gives him a small smile, practically able to see all the progress he’s made toward becoming at ease around her go up in smoke.

 

 

 

 

Despite Eric’s theory, Jackson’s anything but quiet on their walk to Gayeon’s dorm room two days later for their first preparation session.

“It’s nice in here,” Jackson says nervously as he follows Gayeon into her room. “Really clean. Jaebum keeps his room clean like this—his half, Jinyoung’s is a mess. He stress cleans, it’s hilarious—Jaebum, I mean. Jinyoung doesn’t clean anything.”

“Are your rooms the same size as ours?”

“I think they’re a little smaller. Here, look.” He digs his phone out, scrolling through it briefly until he turns it around so that she can see a picture of what she assumes is his dorm room.

“Is that why you have the beds together? So you’ll have more room?”

“No, uh, Mark gets cold, so. We share.”

Given that the last time Gayeon saw Mark he was curled up on Jackson’s lap at a Zeta Beta Zeta party, sharing a drink with him, she isn’t entirely sure how she manages not to laugh. “That’s nice of you.”

“Yeah. Uh.” Jackson puts his phone away, shaking his head a little. “You guys have the extra dining hall downstairs, too, right?”

“Yeah, it’s really convenient.” She sits down on her bed, then looks up at him. “Do you want to sit down?”

Jackson looks from the mattress to her and back again, and she can see him swallow. “Oh, yeah.”

As soon as he sits down on the edge of the bed he quickly busies himself with getting his books out of his backpack. Gayeon follows suit, though she has to smile as she sneaks a glance at him. He’d relaxed a lot around her as the semester went on, especially once she started accepting Youngji’s invitations to Zeta Beta Zeta parties, but ever since they’d been assigned to work together on this project he’s gotten wound up all over again. It’s funny, coming from someone with as much bluster as he has, and kind of cute.

He relaxes more as they get to work, both of them outlining the presentation and splitting up the work. Jackson volunteers for more than his share, but doesn’t argue when Gayeon insists on a more equal workload. He even puts on music at her suggestion, an 80s rock playlist that sounds like music they’ve probably both listened to more than their fair share of during all the years they’ve spent at the gym.

“Want to take a break?” she suggests after almost an hour, looking down at him where he’s starfished in the middle of her bed. As at ease as he appears now, as soon as she rests her hand on his knee he all but jumps out of his skin.

“Uh, sure,” Jackson agrees quickly, sitting back up. “Do you want to get coffee? I think Kangjoon’s working. We can go say hi.”

“I don’t really want any right now. Maybe later.”

“Oh. Okay. I just figured, since we’re done and everything. Or should I go?”

“You don’t have to go yet,” she says, and can see him swallow. Gayeon hasn’t so much as kissed anyone since she broke up with her high school boyfriend before graduation, too busy with school and training to party much or think about meeting guys, but she finds herself wondering what it would be like if she decided to change that now. 

Testing him—both of them—she shifts closer, until her shoulder is pressed against his again. If this were the beginning of the semester he might have babbled an excuse and fled; but now he stays still, his wide eyes fixed on her face, as she leans in and brushes her lips against his once, then again.

His notebook hits the floor with a clatter, but it barely registers—they’re both too preoccupied as she shifts forward, straddling his lap, and tosses his snapback aside before they kiss again. 

After a few minutes Jackson carefully lies down, pulling her with him, though he doesn’t try anything further, just keeps kissing her. She wonders if he’d leave everything up to her, and shivers at the thought of his body, thick and powerful and hers to command.

As if he can sense where her mind is wandering, his hands start to move, too, sliding up her torso until they’re just beneath her chest. “Can I-” Jackson begins, and Gayeon nods, moving his hands to her breasts herself when he waits a beat too long for her liking. 

Even through two layers of clothing his firm, careful touch feels good, and Gayeon wants more. After one last kiss she breaks away, just long enough to sit back up and reach under her shirt. A few quick motions later and her bra is unfastened; she pulls it through one sleeve and tosses it to the floor.

“How do girls do that?” Jackson asks, his tone awed.

“Desperation,” she says dryly, and he laughs and kisses her again. This time when he touches her he slides both hands under her shirt, slowly enough to give her time to push him away; when she just pulls him closer instead he follows through, cupping her breasts in his hands, thumbing her nipples until she moans and pulls away. 

“Can I touch you?” she asks, and he nods frantically. It’s the work of a few seconds before she has his jeans and boxers shoved down far enough to wrap her hand around his cock, feeling it thick and hot and hard in her palm. She shivers; it’s not enough to change her decision not to have sex with anyone for now, but it’s enough to make her imagine what it would be like if she did.

He’s so responsive as she strokes him, but he doesn’t stop touching her, either, keeping one leg braced for her to grind down against. He’s been so good to her; Gayeon decides impulsively to give him something back. She’s not sure she’ll be able to look at him when she says it, so she tears her mouth away from his, waits a beat before murmuring in his ear, “I thought you’d be good at this.”

Jackson jerks back with a moan. “You.” He swallows, staring up at her. “You thought about this?”

She nods and keeps stroking him, not noticing that her grip’s tighter, her strokes faster. Too absorbed in the dark pleasure of watching Jackson struggle to keep himself together in the face of what she’s just told him. “A few times,” she says, and kisses his throat so that she can feel it when he swallows again. “When class got boring and I could feel you watching me. Or when I couldn’t sleep…” 

“Oh my _god_ -” Jackson pulls her into one fierce kiss after another.

Gayeon’s so absorbed in the kiss, in Jackson’s hands on her and his thick thigh between her legs, that she misses all the warning signs until, before she knows it, Jackson’s moaning into her mouth, stiffening underneath her, and comes all over her hand and his own abdomen.

She strokes him through it, then pulls away, leaving him panting while she gets a tissue from the box on her roommate’s nightstand and wipes off her hand. “Want me to go get those coffees while you rest?” she teases.

“ _Hey_ ,” he says, his tone more breathless than offended. “You can’t leave. You didn’t come yet.”

She casts an amused glance along his prone body, up to where he’s lying on her pillow, his eyes barely open. “Can you even move?”

“Don’t have to,” he says, his grin lazy and more than a bit wicked at the edges. “You can sit on my face.”

“Really?” she asks, intrigued.

“Mmhmm. C’mere.”

She waits a beat, just to make him wonder, then quickly steps out of her sweatpants and underwear before straddling his face, not missing how his hands take a quick, reverent skim down her thighs. She laughs a little at that, and he grins up at her, pressing a kiss to the inside of one without breaking eye contact with her. 

“Better hold onto something,” he tells her before pulling her down and setting to work.

And for once she can’t even laugh at him. Jackson can definitely put his mouth to good use. It’s not long at all before Gayeon has one hand braced against the headboard and sinks the other into Jackson’s thick, dark hair. Jackson moans, the sound itself and its resulting vibrations hurtling Gayeon that much closer to the edge. Stunned, she tugs at his hair, bucking her hips faster at Jackson’s next moan, Jackson’s hands tightening on her ass as he brings her even closer, his mouth working frantically.

Just as she’s about to break and touch herself, unable to handle the building pressure anymore, Jackson beats her to it, rubbing her clit and still fucking her with his tongue, harder than ever, moaning underneath her.

“More, more, Jackson, oh _god_ -” She doesn’t so much hit her peak as fly over it, and Jackson doesn’t let up underneath her, doesn’t let her come down, and then she’s coming again right on the heels of the first, her legs buckling because they can’t support her, not after this.

She rolls off Jackson with a disbelieving groan, staring up at the ceiling until he leans over into her field of vision. “How was it?” he asks hopefully.

“I can’t think,” she admits blankly, and his grin is blinding.


	4. kangjoon

Kangjoon gets into Kappa Tau as a legacy—which is just as well, since his parents probably wouldn’t have let him join otherwise. His dad's always making these comments about the _types_ of guys in Kappa Tau now, about declining standards and how Kangjoon’s experience will be so much worse than his own was.

Kangjoon lets it all go in one ear and out the other, honestly. No point in trying to change his dad’s mind, and it’s not like Kangjoon cares that he’s one of the few straight guys in Kappa Tau. He definitely doesn’t care who his brothers are hooking up with—well, okay, unless it makes for really good gossip. They’re his brothers. He loves them. End of story.

He’s straight, so this thing he and Jackson do sometimes, Jackson crawling into Kangjoon’s bed when Mark needs quiet time and Jackson’s bored—it’s because they’re bored, or stressed, or just because having someone else’s hand on his dick feels better than his own. Sometimes they just talk, or listen to music, or nap. Sometimes, though, Kangjoon’s edgy and Jackson’s a live wire next to him, and after a quick agreement Kangjoon opens one of the porn videos he’s bookmarked. Jackson’s one of Kangjoon’s favorite people, but it’s not like that. They’re just friends.

Besides, Kangjoon thinks with what few working brain cells he has left, biting back a moan as he arches up into Jackson’s steadily pumping fist, Jackson knows what he’s doing.

Kangjoon comes, but Jackson’s still going, like this is a competition or something. Kangjoon strokes him gamely, even though he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. He’s so ready to skip to the part where they cuddle.

There’s one surefire way he can think of to get there. He rests his chin on Jackson’s shoulder, leaning in closer. Jackson’s already breathing more heavily, but he’s not quite close enough.

“Hey, Jackson?” Kangjoon murmurs in his ear.

“Yeah?” Jackson pants.

“Is this what you and Mark do, too?” 

Sure enough, Jackson moans loudly, his entire body arching and then freezing into place momentarily, and Kangjoon only needs to give his cock a few more strokes before Jackson comes so hard he curls in on himself. 

Jackson wraps himself around Kangjoon afterwards, his head pillowed on Kangjoon’s shoulder and one leg spread out over both of his. The way he always is, whether they’re surrounded by the other pledges in the Kappa Tau house or huddled together in Kangjoon’s bed. 

“So,” Kangjoon teases, starting up a random movie in his Netflix queue, “was that a yes?”

“ _No_ ,” Jackson says petulantly, and aims a half-hearted kick at his calf.


	5. youngji

It’s supposed to be a quiet night for Youngji, just a quick dinner run and then catching up on her civics reading. But plans at Cartwright have a way of changing, especially when Jackson is involved.

When she goes into her favorite restaurant, already dreaming of their chicken pad Thai, the first thing she sees is Jackson and his parents waiting for a table.

Jackson beams at her. “Hey!” he says, beckoning her over. As soon as she’s in reach, he takes her hand and pulls her in against his side as he makes the introductions, Youngji and his parents bowing to each other and exchanging greetings.

“Your wife, right?” his dad asks him.

Youngji laughs. “Yeah.”

“Yeah, my wife,” Jackson confirms at the same time, and squeezes Youngji’s hand, looking at her. “You’re getting dinner?”

“Yeah, I’m just getting something to take back to my room,” she explains.

“Why don’t you eat with us?” his dad suggests.

“Are you sure?” she asks. She knows that this is the first time Jackson’s dad has visited Cartwright since Jackson started school, and that these trips are always hard on his mom due to her condition. The last thing she’d expected was for Jackson to share his time with them with her, even just for a meal. “I don’t want to interrupt.”

“We want to know Jackson’s friends,” his dad says, and his mom nods.

Youngji glances at Jackson, who nods encouragingly, so she smiles. “Okay, I will. Thank you.”

 

 

 

 

Youngji sits next to Jackson, who slings his arm over the back of her chair—when he’s not gesticulating wildly during a conversation, touching Youngji’s arm to emphasize what he’s saying, eating, or trading bites of food with everyone else.

Something about dinner with Jackson’s parents, listening to stories of Jackson’s childhood and answering their questions, seems familiar. It takes a while for her to realize it’s because it reminds her of dinners with her ex-boyfriend and his family last year.

Once Youngji thinks about that, it’s hard not to, especially with Jackson’s dad asking how much time they spend together and how often she can feel Jackson’s mom studying her thoughtfully. 

After the check is paid and they all step outside, it’s time to part ways.

“I’ll go back with you,” Jackson tells his parents. “Which car did you rent?”

“We’ll be fine,” his dad assures him. “You go with Youngji.” They switch to Cantonese from there, so Youngji’s not sure what they’re saying, just that Jackson’s hand stays on her lower back all the while.

“It was good to meet you,” his mother tells Youngji in the meantime. “I’m glad to know someone so important to Jackson.”

Youngji inexplicably feels her face get warm. “He’s important to me, too,” she says, and when Jackson’s mom smiles, she smiles back.

 

 

 

 

It’s a twenty minute walk back to campus, but the early April evening is perfect for it. It’s why she’d gone into town in the first place. The time seems to go even faster on the way back, the way it always does when she’s with Jackson.

Tonight is hardly the first time she and Jackson have held hands—he’s one of the easiest people to be around she’s ever known, and one of the most tactile, so they’ve dragged each other through their respective houses or taken each other’s hands as they walk around campus more times than she can count. But this is the first time it’s become something for her to think twice about; the first time she’s found herself sneaking glances at Jackson on their way to her dorm.

Walking hand-in-hand with Jackson, his coat draped over her shoulders and Jackson talking about how much his mom had liked her… it gets harder and harder to dismiss the thought of _what if_.

For all their denials over the year, this isn’t a path she lets herself wander down very often. They might refer to each other as husband and wife, but she’s done her best to keep things between them platonic. She’s not in the habit of going after guys who are pining after other people, after all.

But Jackson gets under people’s skin, even hers. It’s not like she hasn’t thought about it during the past several months as Jackson’s gone from being the talkative boy next to her in lit class to one of the best friends she’s ever had. He’s always focused on Mark, or Gayeon, or even Zitao, but sometimes he’ll look at Youngji in a way that makes her wonder if he could want her instead.

Don’t think about it, she tells herself. “So your parents drove down?” she asks instead.

“Yeah, this morning,” Jackson explains. “She got to lie down when they got to the hotel, but she still needs extra rest tonight. Being in the car for a long time is pretty hard on her. It’s why she hardly ever visits. But since Dad’s home for a few weeks, he brought her down.”

Youngji thinks, a bit guiltily, about how her own family lives less than an hour away. “Hopefully she’ll sleep really well.”

Jackson nods. “I looked up all the hotels around here and found the best one for them to stay at. I’ll probably take them breakfast tomorrow, then we’ll see what she feels like doing after that.”

“You’re a really good son,” Youngji tells him.

Jackson shrugs, smiling. “She’s a really good mom.”

Youngji’s own mother had told her once to judge a man by how he treats his mother. But she’s _not thinking about it_. “Your mom didn’t move back to Hong Kong with your dad?” she asks quickly. Jackson’s father had talked about his job as one of the coaches of Hong Kong’s national fencing team over dinner, and it had made Youngji wonder.

“She wants to stay here while I’m in college. I don’t know what she’ll do after I graduate.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know that, either,” he admits. 

She squeezes his hand. “I’m glad I got to meet your parents. Tonight was really fun.”

“Yeah, me too,” he says, his tone immediately brightening. Then he laughs. “You weren’t weirded out at first, were you?”

“What? No-”

“I mean, I know my dad was kind of—enthusiastic, about you and me-”

“No, it was fine!”

“Okay, good.” Jackson smiles slightly. “I think he just wants me to date girls. I mean, they know I like guys, too, and it’s not like he’s ever tried to make me feel bad about it or whatever. But he's always, like, relieved when I go out with a girl, you know?”

“What about your mom?”

“She just wants me to be happy. She’s always said that.”

Youngji smiles, swinging their hands as her dorm comes into view. “You’re lucky. Great parents, great wife…”

“The best wife,” Jackson says fondly.

Normally she’d laugh it off, and in the next few seconds one of them would probably say something that would set off one of their usual bickering matches. Normally they’d keep going until they reached her building, then would make plans to hang out the next day. Normally after a quick hug she’d go back upstairs and get to work.

Tonight, impulsively, she pulls him to a stop and kisses Jackson’s cheek. She lingers longer than she’d meant to, her heart pounding as she feels his grip on her hand tighten, then steps back and looks uncertainly at him. Jackson’s not teasing or laughing or even smiling, for once, just staring at her like-

And then she leans right back in and they’re kissing like they’re starved for it, Jackson’s hands sliding down her body to her waist to pull her flush against him. Maybe it should feel like this is going too fast, going from having nothing between them but a quick, reluctant peck under the mistletoe at ZBZ’s holiday party to making out under the street light, but instead the clearest thought Youngji can manage is a brief moment to wonder why this took them took so long.

It takes a few moments, but she tears herself away, abruptly remembering that they’re not alone together or even at one of their houses’ mixers, where they’d have their choice of rooms to duck into. Anyone could see them out in the open like this. Word’s probably gotten back to ZBZ or Kappa Tau already, knowing the Greek gossip system, and how will they explain that?

Not that she’s up to explaining much of anything at the moment. “Wow,” is all she can say, breathless.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t sound any steadier, and he’s staring at her mouth like he wants nothing more than to do it all over again. She wonders if her lips are as red as his, now. “I, uh, I guess I should-”

“Do you want to come up?” she asks impulsively. “Seulgi’s out with a few of the other girls. They went to a movie. She won’t be back until later.”

“Seriously?”

Youngji frowns. “She’s my roommate, why wouldn’t I know?”

“No, I mean, you’re inviting me up?”

“Oh.” She takes a breath, studying him. He’ll go along with whatever she decides, she knows that, whether it’s to continue this upstairs or to pretend like it never happened. And maybe the latter would be safer, in the long run, but maybe…. Maybe it’s about time they tried this. “Yeah. If you want.”

“Yeah,” he says quickly. “I really want to.”

“Good.” She smiles helplessly and he smiles back, pressing a kiss to her jaw before she takes his hand again and leads him inside.

Jackson banters with the girls on duty at the front desk as Youngji signs him in, doing her best to ignore their knowing looks. She’s had Jackson over often enough now that it seems like everyone’s been expecting this.

By the time she’s unlocking her door and stepping aside to let him in, nerves have had time to settle in. And not just for her, she realizes, as Jackson quickly asks, “Want me to put on some music or something?”

“Uh, sure,” she agrees. She steps out of her shoes and puts her wallet on the dresser as Jackson gets out his phone, scrolling through it until he picks the playlist he wants.

As soon as the first song starts, Youngji can’t help laughing. “Is this your Queen playlist?”

“It's not _all_ —what’s wrong with Queen?”

“Is it all 80s?”

“What’s wrong with 80s?”

“This is ‘Princes of the Universe’-”

“So what? This is a great song!”

“I’m not a prince, Jackson!”

Jackson sighs in exasperation, and she rolls her eyes right back. “Well then what do you want to listen to?”

“I don’t know.” Youngji looks from him to the bed and back again, and now it’s her turn to sigh, though in resignation. They’re already right back in their usual pattern. Were it not for how she can still feel the echo of Jackson’s mouth on hers, his hands at her waist, she would almost think the kiss was just a strange dream. “This isn’t happening, is it?”

“It’s happening,” Jackson says firmly. He sits down on the bed, then pulls on her hands until she leans down and kisses him, winding her arms around his neck. 

It’s an uncomfortable angle, so she lowers herself onto his lap, Jackson promptly pulling her in closer, his hands slipping under her shirt. She’s hot all over, can’t get enough of this, and breaks the kiss just long enough to pull off her tank top, pleased when she sees how dark and intent his eyes are as he takes in the sight of her before pulling off his own shirt. She lets herself touch him after a moment, her hand hesitating over his chest, where she can feel that his heart is pounding as hard as hers, before trailing it down to his defined abdomen and the trail of hair there. She lets herself linger, until she feels him press a kiss to the side of her neck.

Her eyes dart back up to meet his, and he smiles a little. “I told you my body’s not awful,” he says, though his voice is thicker than usual.

She shakes his head. “You’re really…” she begins, then just kisses him again, relishing the feeling of his hands spread out against the bare skin of her lower back.

Youngji’s never entirely sure what happens next—Jackson drops back, maybe because he’s planning to pull her on top of him? But instead of landing on her pillow, his head collides with her headboard.

There’s a horrible crack, and Jackson yelps and falls onto his side, curling up on the mattress, both hands pressed to his head. “Ow, _shit_ -”

“Oh my god, are you all right?” It takes a few seconds, but Youngji finally forces his hands aside. Though her touch is careful, he still yells again when she brushes her fingertips over the spot, which she can already feel swelling up.

“I’ll be fine, just—I just need a minute,” Jackson says through gritted teeth. 

Youngji scoffs. “I heard how hard you hit it. I’ll go get you an ice pack, hold on.”

By the time she’s retrieved one and returned to the room, Jackson has recovered enough to attempt a smile as she hands him the ice pack. “Don’t worry so much. Everything only went black for like, a second.” 

“That sounds like a concussion,” Youngji comments as she sits down carefully on the bed next to him.

“Who says?”

“I’ve had one before.” She frowns. “Maybe we should take you to the nurse. Or the hospital.”

“No, I’m fine, just stay with me,” he insists. He catches her hand, tugging pointedly at it until she indulges him and lies down next to him, letting Jackson pull her in close.

She covers her hand over his on the ice bag, tsking. “Why did you throw yourself down like that, anyway? I wasn’t going anywhere!”

“I really wanted you, okay!” He utters a disbelieving noise. “Maybe I already had a head injury.”

“Maybe I did, too,” she retorts.

“Maybe I should just go back to my room-”

“Maybe you should!” she agrees, and when Jackson clings tighter to her in response she burrows into his arms with a sigh.

Honestly, maybe it’s just as well they were interrupted. She can see how this would go if they decide to try again another day: they’d date for a while, and they’d be happy, but Jackson’s heart would always be with Mark, at least while they’re all at Cartwright. Maybe there will be a time for her and Jackson someday, but this isn’t it, and now that the earlier impulse has passed she knows she doesn’t want to risk damaging what they do have.

“Jackson?” she says at last.

“Hmm?”

“I really like you.”

She can feel Jackson’s body tense against hers. “I like you, too-”

“But not as much as you like Mark.”

Normally this would be when Jackson blurts out a furious series of denials, like it’s not obvious to anyone who’s ever seen them together that he and Mark have had it bad for each other for as long as they’ve known each other. Today, though, he sighs and kisses her forehead. “Still my wife?” he asks hopefully.

Youngji smiles. “Still your wife.”

“Good,” he says fervently, and she hugs him, kissing the hollow of his throat.


	6. mark

Mark’s in the middle of his latest Avatar: The Last Airbender rewatch, occasionally texting commentary to his sister, so he doesn’t pay much attention when Jackson lets himself into the room until Jackson flops face-first onto the mattress.

“Hey,” Mark says, hitting pause on the episode, and Jackson groans in response. “What’s up?”

“Tired.” Jackson rolls over until he’s sprawled over Mark’s lap, his arms across Mark’s leg and his head pillowed on his thighs. “Can you cancel my class tonight?”

“I would,” Mark tells him, stroking Jackson’s hair. 

Jackson utters a defeated sigh and closes his eyes. “We have so much work to do, and finals aren’t even for three weeks."

Three weeks, Mark thinks in disbelief. He’s looking forward to being home for the summer, but not to not having Jackson around all the time. He and Jackson have long since agreed to live with each other again next year instead of moving into their respective frat houses, but the thought of being without him all summer is still… weird. 

For now, he brushes the thought aside. “Just rest,” he tells Jackson. “I’ll wake you up later.”

That settled, he starts the episode again. After all, he’s seen Jackson sleep through much louder at Kappa Tau, and this episode is one of Mark’s favorites. 

“Is that Avatar?” Jackson starts to sit up, but Mark pushes him back down.

“Rest,” Mark says sternly.

“But-”

“Or I’m kicking you out.”

“ _Fine_.”

“Good,” Mark says serenely. He’s learned from his mistake, though, so no matter how badly he wants to hit play again he makes himself wait, watching Jackson closely.

“We should go for dinner,” Jackson says as his eyes drift shut.

Mark thinks it over, then shakes his head. “Let’s just stay here. I’ll call for takeout.” It’s a nice day, ideal for walking into town to pick up something to eat, but Mark doesn’t want to. They’re a few weeks away from summer break; a few weeks away from not seeing each other for three months. Mark’s not above stealing all the time alone with Jackson that he can get.

“Okay,” Jackson mumbles, nuzzling his face against Mark’s sweatpants-clad thigh before he sighs contentedly. “Just us. Sounds good.”

Mark smiles to himself, stroking Jackson’s hair again. That’s exactly what he was thinking.


End file.
